Born to be a Musketeer
by Arikae
Summary: D'Artagnan wants to be a Musketeer but Athos seems to be doing everything he can to stop that from happening. Occurs between episode 1 and 2 in season 1.


**Author's note: I wrote this story in one night, so it's very rough and kind of rushed. I had the idea in my head and had to get it out. This story occurs between episode 1 and 2 in season 1. It's about how D'Artagnan earned Athos's trust and respect.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters.**

**Warning: un-betaed.**

**The Musketeers Garrison…**

Athos, Aramis and Porthos were sitting at their usual table at the garrison, having their breakfast and conversing in their usual banter before their day's work begins. The three have been fighting together for years now and Athos trusted his two friends, unconditionally. It was something of a rarity for Athos to do so as he had been betrayed so thoroughly once in his life. The betrayal led to the death of his younger brother, Thomas. Aramis and Porthos knew little of Athos's life before he became a musketeer. They only knew that it was his previous life they pushed him to drink himself into a stupor every night. They never asked Athos about it and this is one of the many reasons why he truste these two men. They were always there for him but they never pried. It was the three of them; the inseparables, as their captain had once referred to them as. Athos was content with his life right now and he didn't want or need it to change. However, fate believes otherwise. He frowned when Porthos looked towards the gate and grinned. Athos turned in the direction of where he was looking.

"d'Artagnan! What are you doing here?" Porthos and Aramis both rose from their seat to greet the young man.

Athos watched as the young man returned Porthos's grin with a boyish one of his own. He couldn't be more than 20 years old. Only a couple of years older than his brother, Thomas, would've been, had Athos not married a murderous woman. Athos frowned, annoyed that this boy managed to bring out his memory of his brother to the surface. His annoyance turned to anger when d'Artagnan answered Porthos.

"Captain Treville asked for my presence." D'Artagnan was still smiling, which just irked Athos even more. "For what, I do not know."

Porthos and Aramis exchanged curious expressions before Aramis gestured up the steps. "I will lead the way. Follow me."

As d'Artagnan passed Athos, he didn't miss the distasteful look Athos gave him. He turned back around to get a second look at the experienced musketeer, who had returned to his cup of wine and bread. "Did I do something to him?" d'Artagnan asked Aramis.

"Hmmm?" Aramis stopped at the top of the steps to see who d'Artagnan was referring to. He could see that Athos did look to be in a mood today. "Athos? You mean aside from accusing him of murdering your father?"

D'Artagnan looked at him, deadpanned. Aramis was grinning from ear to ear. "I thought I made up for that by helping to clear his name."

"I jest, d'Artagnan." Aramis continued towards Captain Treville's office. "Athos is a complicated man." He said as he opened the door and gestured for d'Artagnan to enter. "d'Artagnan is here for you, Captain."

D'Artagnan stood at the entrance of the room as the door closed behind him. He felt a little uneasy as he waited for the captain of the Musketeers to acknowledge his presence. Captain Treville put down his quill and looked up. He gestured with his fingers for d'Artagnan to come in closer while he stood and walked around to the front of his table and folded his arms. He could see the boy was nervous and uncomfortable but he was hiding it well. "Aramis and Porthos had filled me in on their adventure with you yesterday." D'Artagnan nodded, unsure of how he was supposed to respond. "Are you planning to remain here in Paris?"

"I am, Captain." D'Artagnan answered. "My father is dead. There is nothing left for me in Lupiac. My farm is providing me with enough income for now. That is until I can find a job here in Paris."

The captain nodded. "Aramis tells me your skill with the sword in almost comparable to Athos's. Athos is my best soldier." Again d'Artagnan didn't know how to respond. "I have no authority to give you a commission here in the Musketeers' regiment. That alone, can only be bestowed upon you by the King of France. However, I am in dire need of a fresh face amongst my men for missions requiring more deceptive measures…"

"Yes!" D'Artagnan couldn't help himself. He had always wanted to be a musketeer. He was heartbroken when he believed a musketeer had murdered his father but as soon as that mistake was cleared, his dream became clearer as well. Treville raised his eyebrows at d'Artagnan, amused. D'Artagnan face went red when he realised Treville had not yet offered him a role within his musketeers. "I'm sorry."

Captain Treville waived away the apology. "Please understand, as this is not a commission, you will not receive any payment for your services."

D'Artagnan stood up straight. "To be able to serve amongst the honourable musketeers is payment enough, Captain."

Treville nodded, "You have the heart of a musketeer, d'Artagnan." He held out his hand. "I, unofficially, welcome you to my regiment." D'Artagnan smiled in relief and shook the man's hand. "Come, I will address my men and introduce you."

* * *

The Musketeers stood in rows to receive their assignments for the day. Before they disbanded, he introduced d'Artagnan, telling them what he had told d'Artagnan. "Let it be reminded that musketeers are brothers and even though d'Artagnan is not officially one of us, you will all treat him as if he is. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Captain!" Came the reply before they left for their duties.

"Athos!" The captain called out to the soldier. "d'Artagnan will be your responsibility." D'Artagnan didn't know if he should be pleased or not, but he could tell by Athos's expression that he was not. He thought he should be the one to break the ice between them but Athos ignored his approached and ran up the stairs towards the Captain.

"Captain! Why me?" He asked, loudly enough for the entire garrison to hear. D'Artagnan's face went red as they all looked at him as if to ask what was wrong with him.

Porthos and Aramis looked up at the pair at the top of the stairs then looked at d'Artagnan. The boy looked as if he was trying to turn invisible. They stepped up to him and put their arms around his shoulder, ensuring he knew that he was welcomed. "Athos, we'll get the horses ready and meet you at the gate. We have a big day ahead of us." Aramis called up to his friend. D'Artagnan couldn't help but turn to see what was transpiring between the captain and Athos. Athos looked frustrated…no outraged. _What did I do?_

The Captain was not impressed with the man in front of him. "Did you not hear a word I just said?"

"I did. I just don't believe that I am to best person to train the boy."

"He saved your life."

"It would not have needed saving if not for him!" But even as Athos said it, he knew it wasn't true and so did Treville.

"I was on my way with the Red Guards to arrest you before I even met d'Artagnan. You would've been tried for murder with or without d'Artagnan's testimony. However, I can guarantee you that without him, you would be dead." Athos was about to protest but the captain stopped him. "I think it's time you show some gratitude and train the boy. You've seen his skills. It would be a waste to not recruit him."

Athos was livid now and he didn't even know why he didn't want this boy to become a musketeer. "Fine. I will train him but if he does anything to put any of us in harm's way…I will dismiss him."

Treville sighed, "If you think that is wise but give the boy a chance, Athos. He is young and has just lost his only family member. He needs a mentor."

Athos's stance on the matter relaxed a little, but not enough to make him agree to be the boy's mentor. "Fine." He turned and headed for the stables.

* * *

The following week was a very tense one for the four men. D'Artagnan often found himself wondering if he had agreed to his position amongst the musketeers, too hastily. As the days went by, Athos's attitude towards him grew colder. His temper was short and had very little patience for any questions the boy asked. D'Artagnan found himself losing his own temper many times as well. He longed to be a part of a mission but Athos would always cast him aside as soon as the action began, claiming the boy wasn't ready. The last mission was the last straw for both men. It wasn't even a mission. They happened upon an attack on a farm house. It was d'Artagnan who had noticed something was wrong as they stopped at the farm to ask to water their horses before they returned to Paris. The man who came out to greet them dressed as a farmer but d'Artagnan grew up on a farm so he could see the subtle inconsistencies, like the man's boots were not that of a farmers. When he got off his horse to shake the man's hand, his suspicions strengthened as he didn't feel the hardened skin caused by years of harvesting and ploughing. D'Artagnan smiled at the man. "We've been on the road for a day now and are famished. Would you by any chance have any supper to spare?"

Athos glared at d'Artagnan, not seeing what the boy was seeing. "D'Artagnan, stop wasting time! We must report to Captain Treville before dark."

D'Artagnan turned to look up at the man on his horse. "Surely a little supper won't delay us too much."

Aramis frowned. It's not like d'Artagnan to openly disregard Athos's orders like that. He looked past the men and into the house. It was quiet inside but he could see a table set for four and what looked to be a doll sitting on a small bed. "Are you alone, Monsieur?"

"Yes," The answer came to fast, "it's just me on this farm. Lived here since I was a wee lad."

Aramis nodded. "You sleep with a doll then?"

Everyone was confused at that question then the penny dropped. The man knew his act was blown. D'Artagnan was about to pull out his sword but he wasn't fast enough and was grabbed and roughly turned around to be used as a shield, an arm around his neck and a pistol to his head. "Put you guns down or I'll kill him."

"Let him go." Athos ordered, not lowering his gun.

"I would do what he says." Aramis seconded, annoyed at himself for pulling the curtain on the man's deceit while d'Artagnan was still within his reach.

D'Artagnan closed his eyes, knowing his acquaintances could do nothing while the man used him as a shield. He had two choices; wait for the musketeers to make a move or make one himself. D'Artagnan wasn't at the stage of the relationship where he trusted these men with his life. Before anyone could even blink, d'Artagnan pushed the barrel of the pistol up. It discharged just as it cleared d'Artagnan's head. He then flipped the man over his shoulder, slamming him onto the dirt. By the time the man knew what was happening, he found himself looking up at a barrel of a pistol before he was knocked unconscious by the butt. D'Artagnan looked up when he heard applause. Aramis and Porthos wore expressions that could only be described as impressed. He smiled, glad to have earn some sort of respect from them. However, his smile faded when he was grabbed by the shirt. "What…"

"What the hell was that?! You could've gotten yourself killed!" Athos growled in his face.

D'Artagnan was shocked at first but that feeling grew to anger. He was sick of this man judging his every move! "I was doing what I'm supposed to be doing!"

"You're supposed to be following my orders!"

D'Artagnan lost control and kicked Athos's legs from under him causing them to both fall as Athos still had a hold of his jacket. They rolled in the dirt, each struggling to get the upper hand. Aramis and Porthos watched the show for about two minutes before they decided to intercede. Aramis grabbed D'Artagnan and pulled the boy off his friend while Porthos wrapped his arms around a furious Athos.

D'Artagnan closed his eyes and calmed himself. Aramis felt the boy relax and slowly let him go. "What of the family on this farm, if I had followed your orders!?" d'Artagan said in a low and dangerous voice before heading into to house and praying that the family was still alive. He sighed in relief when he found a woman and two children, tied up and gagged. He held out his hands to them to tell them they were in no danger from him. "I'm a…" he was about to say Musketeer but realised he would be lying, "I'm here to help you. The man who attacked you has been contained." He pulled out his dagger and cut the bounds. The woman sobbed and hugged her children. "Where is your husband?"

"He is not yet home from trading our harvest." The woman answered in a shaking voice.

"We will stay until he is home." D'Artagnan promised the woman then turned to the man at the door. "I'm happy to stay here on my own if you feel _reporting_ to the captain is more important." He shoved past the men at the door to tend to his horse. Porthos walked into the house and knelt down in front of the two little ones. One boy, one girl.

"Are they twins?"

The woman smiled, though she was still clearly, shakened. "They are. Jacque and Isabelle." Porthos picked them both up in his arm, drawing squeals out for the frightened children. "You two can't be any more than two years old!"

"We're five!" They both complained, indignantly. And just like that, they had forgotten their ordeal.

Aramis was leaning against the door frame, smiling at the laughter inside the house. "You and I both know it was I that put d'Artagnan in danger. D'Artagnan got himself out of it."

"He was reckless." Athos said, stubbornly.

"He saw what none of us did. If not for him, we would have rode on, oblivious to what was happening inside this house. I can't imagine what that man would have done to those beautiful children." He glared at Athos. "He saved their lives. At least acknowledge that before you reprimand him for insubordination." Aramis left Athos to think about that.

Athos knew Aramis was right. D'Artagnan did do good this evening but that alone did not squash the fear he felt when a gun was held to the boys head. Athos froze and for a moment he could see Thomas's face in place of d'Artagnan's. He felt as if he was losing his brother all over again and the feeling of helplessness took over all his senses. When he finally registered that it was over and d'Artagnan was safe, the fear was transformed into rage and he directed it at the one who caused it all. D'Artagnan. Athos knew Aramis was right, but the fear and anger was too fresh for him to admit it out loud. The fear only reinforced Athos's opinion that d'Artagnan should not be a musketeer.

* * *

**Musketeer's Garrison…**

Treville was informed of what had transpired at the farm. He heard it from all four men. D'Artagnan's version only included facts. A recount of what had happened. Aramis and Porthos's version included their admiration and respect for the boy. It was Athos's report that concerned him the most. "The boy is arrogant and has a total disregard for authority. What of his skills if he cannot follow orders and work as a team. He didn't trust us to get him out of his dire situation!" He didn't understand why Athos was so against d'Artagnan joining the regiment. He sighed and rubbed his eyes. D'Artagnan would be a fine musketeer if he received the training required, but can he allow his belief in this boy to drive away his finest soldier. He didn't think he could. Treville decided that he would give d'Artagnan one last chance to prove himself to Athos. If they return from their next mission without any change, then he will dismiss d'Artagnan…with great regret. He prayed it would not come to that.

A village on the outskirts of Paris was burned down. Ten villagers died. One survivor told them that they heard the bandits say their next target was a small village sitting on the border of Versailles. There were 6 bandits. The village only consisted of five families. It was serious enough for Treville to send his best men but not enough to warrant any more than the four of them. Athos was given his orders; stop the men at all costs. This was the mission that will determine D'Artagnan's fate with the Musketeers.

* * *

It was half a day's ride to Versaille and they knew they had a limited time to get there and hence only stops were made to water their horses. On the road Aramis noticed how withdrawn d'Artagnan was. He made little conversation with himself or Porthos which was strange. The boy wasn't the most talkative but he was usually quite energetic and easily engaged in conversations with Aramis and Porthos. When they stopped to water their horses, he took the opportunity to check on his young friend. He guided his horse over to where d'Artagnan was tending to his by the river. "Are you not feeling well, d'Artagnan?"

D'Artagnan finished filling his skin with water from the river and stood, smiling at the man he had quickly considered a friend. "I'm fine. Why do you ask?"

"You're unusually quiet today." Aramis frowned as d'Artagnan's smile faded and he focused on something behind him. He turned and found Athos tending to his own horse. "Ah…" He said, finally understanding. "Athos is a complicated man."

"So you've told me." D'Artagnan returned his focus to the man in front of him. "It doesn't matter. I made a mistake taking the Captain's offer. I'm not a Musketeer." He turned to get on his horse, hoping to end the conversation there, but Aramis grabbed his arm.

"What are you saying?" Aramis didn't like what he was hearing.

"I'm saying this is my last mission with you." D'Artagnan answered without turning around. "I know when I'm not welcomed."

Aramis pulled his arm and turned the boy around. "Athos does not speak for the rest of us. I've seen you fight and I can see your passion. You're a musketeer in every sense of the word but in name."

D'Artagnan smiled, "Thank you for saying, Aramis, but my presence is making Athos uncomfortable." He laughed, but there was no mirth, "Anyway, I'm a Gascon farm boy. I'm not made to be a musketeer. It was a silly dream."

Aramis shook his head, wanting to scream at the error of those words but Athos called out to them. "We have no time for conversations. Aramis, get your horse ready. We need to arrive before noon!" Aramis turned and growled at the man, but he said nothing. He turned back only to find that d'Artagnan had already mounted his horse.

"It has been a pleasure riding with all of you. Short as it was." D'Artagnan gave him a sad smile before riding ahead.

Aramis shook his head. "The pleasure was ours and it will not be a short ride!" He was determined to get Athos to see sense.

* * *

**Millue, Versailles…**

They arrived at the village of Millue in the afternoon and have been staking out the village from a position on the hill behind the cover of a large rock. Aramis studied the village. "Five families. They gathered the villagers into the one home." He looked to Athos.

"We cannot wait much longer. They have started raiding the homes for valuables." Athos said in a low growl.

"What's the plan?" Porthos asked.

"We'll sneak in from the sides. Climb in through the windows of the homes. Take out the ones raiding the homes first." Athos told them. "D'Artagnan, stay here and take out the man guarding the house with the villagers when you hear the first shot."

D'Artagnan frowned. He had no doubts about his aim but he also knew his limitations. "I can't take the shot from here. Aramis has the keen eye. He should be the one to do it."

Aramis and Porthos held their breaths for the tongue lashing d'Artagnan was about to receive. "I am in charge and those are my orders. If you cannot follow them then you don't belong here!" Athos grilled out through his clenched jaw. He didn't tell anyone the real reason he was keeping d'Artagnan here was to keep him safe and away from any danger. "I am trusting you to watch our backs. Can you do that?"

D'Artagnan glared at him before submitting. He knew he had no choice but to follow orders. "No one dies on my watch. You have my word." Athos felt a pang in his chest at those words. He had a feeling that d'Artagnan does not give his word easily but when he does, he will honour it. Athos nodded, accepting the promise.

D'Artagnan watched as Aramis, Porthos and Athos stealthily made their way down the hill and behind the houses. The more he watched these _Inseperables_ work together the more he believe he did not belong with them. It's true he was friendly with Aramis and Porthos but it is also true that if Athos did not accept him, then neither would they. And clearly, Athos will never accept him. D'Artagnan, he determined, will never be a musketeer. He sighed. Well, if this was to be his last mission with these men, he might as well make it a good one.

* * *

Aramis and Athos snuck behind the house on the left while Porthos went around the one on the right. "You know d'Artagnan was right. I should be up there and he down here. He is fast and good with a sword. I have a sharp eye." Aramis left him and kept low as he made his way behind the next house. They were in position to take down half of the raiders.

* * *

D'Artagnan squinted as took in the men walking around the centre of the houses. He wouldn't consider this a village. Five homes in one area. Too small to be a village. He readied his musket and then his pistol. Can he really take them out from here? One man, two bullets. D'Artagnan took a deep breath and aimed at man guarding the house. The other scanning the surroundings. Something was causing the back of his neck to tingle. Something was wrong, but he couldn't put his finger on it. He shook himself of the feeling and took aim. A shot rang out and a raider dropped. D'Artagnan let out a breath and took his shot. He smiled. It was good. He stood up as Athos, Aramis and Porthos revealed themselves. Porthos raised his hand and waved at him. D'Artagnan couldn't help but laugh and wave back.

* * *

Athos, Aramis and Porthos dragged the men they had taken out inside the houses into the middle with their colleagues. Three were still alive and will be taken back to Paris for a trial. Athos frowned at the men on the ground. "Five." He said to himself.

"What?" Porthos asked him, confused.

"I count five."

* * *

D'Artagnan holstered his pistol and grabbed his musket, ready to head down to the village when he suddenly remembered why he was feeling uneasy earlier. There were supposed to be six men. He scanned the area in a panic. "Where are you?"

* * *

"Where's the sixth?" Athos asked quietly to himself. The three men suddenly felt very exposed as they slowly scanned their surroundings.

* * *

The sixth man was on his way back from scouting when the musketeers attacked. He arrived at the top of the hill and saw his men being dragged out of the houses. Outraged, he got down low and readied his musket. He didn't see d'Artagnan, 75 yards to the right of him on the same hill.

* * *

By the time d'Artagnan spotted the last man, he already had one of the musketeers in his sights. D'Artagnan didn't think. He grabbed his pistol and shot at the man. He didn't bother aiming he just wanted to stop the man from shooting. The man ducked at the shot and looked to his right, seeing d'Artagnan with a wasted pistol. He turned his musket on the boy.

* * *

Athos, Aramis and Porthos's heads spun towards the hill where they heard the shot. Athos felt as if everything was happening in slow motion. He could only watch as the man on the hill turn his gun onto d'Artagnan. He jolted at the sound as the musket discharged it's bullet.

Aramis wasted no time in aiming his own pistol, resting it on his forearm. The bullet left his pistol. The usual satisfaction as it hits its target was not felt because he knew he was too late. He lowered weapon and turned to d'Artagnan.

* * *

D'Artagnan stood there in shock as he looked down at his stomach. He placed his hand on the area. It came away with blood sticking to it. Slowly, he felt himself lose his hold on the living.

* * *

At first, the three men thought that the last raider had missed d'Artagnan as the boy remained standing, but that thought was rectified as d'Artagnan fell. "D'ARTAGNAN!" The three musketeers broke into a run, simultaneously. They felt like they were running in quicksand, never reaching their wounded friend. Finally, they reached him. Aramis dropped to his knees, breathing heavily as he took in the stomach wound. _Death is inevitable, but you'll bleed for hours first. _The words haunted Aramis as he watched the blood leave d'Artagnan. "No, no, no…" Aramis put pressure on the wound, drawing a groan from the boy. "This is not what you meant when you said this will be your last mission with us."

Athos heard the words but he couldn't ask Aramis for an explanation. He couldn't take his eyes off d'Artagnan's pale face. He slowly lowered himself to the ground at the boy's head. D'Artagnan turned to him, his eyes unfocused. "I.."

"Don't talk, d'Artagnan." Athos's words came out, shakily.

"I…kep..m…my…" D'Artagnan's words faded as he lost his hold on consciousness.

Athos put a hand on d'Artagnan's forehead and closed his eyes. "I know."

Porthos frantically took off his jacket and pulled off his shirt, despite the cold. He tore up the shirt, not bothering to put his jacket back on until he handed the rags to Aramis. He had seen Aramis tend to enough wounds to know what the man needed.

"Thank you." Aramis took the rag and pushed it onto the wound. "Lift him up. I need to stem the bleeding before we can move him." Athos and Porthos lifted the boy up by the shoulders, giving Aramis room to wrap d'Artagnan's middle, tightly. He was breathless when he was done, but there was no time to rest. "Get him to the village and onto a table. The ball is still in him. I need to get it out!" Porthos wasted no time in lifting the boy into his arms. Quickly, but steadily they made their way down the hill with their charge.

* * *

A man, Christophe, lead the musketeers to his house. "Take what you need. We will stay with my brother, next door. Whatever you need, let us know." Athos cleared the table in the centre of the small house for Porthos to lay d'Artagnan down.

"Thank you, Monsieur." Aramis looked around the house and grabbed a cloth from the kitchen. "I need water. Boiled and cold. I also need clean rags and blankets if you can spare them." Christophe nodded and ran out of the house to gather what was needed. Aramis turned to d'Artagnan and stood there looking down at the wound, before he took a deep breath. "Get him out of his jacket and shirt." Athos and Porthos, gently manoeuvred d'Artagnan, navigating his jacket off before Aramis tore open the shirt. It would cause too much pain and more bleeding if they tried to get the shirt off. He looked around the house again and pointed at the sewing box near the armchair by the fire place. Athos grabbed it, opening it and handing him the scissors. The three men worked together like a well-oiled machine, reading each other's thoughts. Aramis cut the bandages off, wincing as he pulled away the blood soaked rag, that was Porthos's shirt, revealing the small bullet hole. It was too small. Aramis teethed off his gloves then took off his belt and jacket before pulling a dagger from his boot. Porthos handed him his flask. He poured the rum over the blade. Taking a deep breath he cut into the wound. D'Artagnan gasped and groaned at the burning pain. His head jerked, but he did not awaken, much to the relief the Aramis. This would be too hard to do if the boy was conscious. When the wound was big enough, Aramis set the dagger aside and looked at his two friends. They knew what was coming next and prepared themselves to hold d'Artagnan down. With his index finger and thumb, Aramis reached inside the wound, searching for the bullet. Everyone held their breath as the search for the bullet went on. D'Artagnan's body tensed at the invasion, making it harder for Aramis. Porthos and Athos held him down, though the boy barely put up a fight. He had lost too much blood. Aramis's eyes narrowed when his fingers felt something hard. He allowed himself a small smile. The bullet didn't go in too deep. "I've got it." Athos winced at the sound of Aramis's fingers and the ball coming out of d'Artagnan. Athos frowned when Aramis dropped the ball into a small bowl before putting his index finger back into d'Artagnan's abdomen.

"What are you doing?"

"Checking." Aramis answered as he felt around inside the wound. D'Artagnan, once again groaned at the invasion. Once he was satisfied, Aramis pulled out his finger and wiped it on the cloth he had grabbed earlier. He shook his head smiling at the unconscious boy. "He's got to be the luckiest boy in all of France. Somehow, that ball missed anything vital."

"So he'll survive?" Porthos asked, not quite allowing himself to hope yet.

"If I have anything to say about it." Aramis smiled at him and nodded, "Yes." Porthos whooped and hugged his friend, laughing in relief. Aramis laughed as well. He patted his friend to tell him to let him go. "I still have a wound to sew up and disinfect." He eyed Athos carefully. The man hadn't shown any reaction to the news. He kept a gloved hand on d'Artagnan's forehead.

Christophe arrived with his brother, carrying a tub of hot water and cold water. He was followed by a woman holding a blanket and rags. Aramis sighed with relief at the arrival of what he needed. "Thank you so much, Monsieurs and Madam." They placed the tubs on the chairs and Porthos took the blankets from the lady. They left after ensuring there was nothing else that was needed. As soon as the door closed, Aramis returned to his patient and found that Athos still had not moved from his place. Aramis gestured for Porthos to tend to Athos while he finished with d'Artagnan.

Porthos made his way around the table and put a hand on Athos's shoulder. "You heard Aramis. He will recover."

"This was my fault." Athos told them.

Porthos and Aramis sighed. Athos was very good at taking blame that was not his to take. "You did not shoot him." Porthos told him slowly. Aramis chuckled as wiped away the blood with a wet cloth.

"I put him on that hill." Athos continued, ignoring.

Aramis threaded the needle and proceeded to stitch the wound. "Yes, you did. But if it wasn't him it would've been me. Either way, someone would be lying here. The difference would be, I will probably die because you two have no skills in tending to wounds."

Porthos pointed at him, "He's right. So you did a good thing!"

Athos closed his eyes at his friends' attempt at joking. "I put him on that hill so that he wouldn't be amongst the fighting. I was trying to keep him safe but instead I put him in danger!"

Porthos shook his head. "We're all to blame! None of us realised the sixth man was missing!" Aramis rose his eyebrows. It was true. "But laying blame does nothing for d'Artagnan! What's done is done. Right now, we have to take care of d'Artagnan."

"Porthos is right." Aramis tied off the thread, then grabbed the flask and poured the remaining alcohol over the wound, jumping when d'Artagnan groaned.

D'Artagnan tried to open his eyes but even that small action was too much for him. He could feel something burning near his stomach. He felt someone's hand on his forehead. It helped him to focus. He tried to open his eyes again.

Athos smiled when d'Artagnan's eyes fluttered open. "Hey."

D'Artagnan swallowed. He was so tired and thirsty. "water…"

Aramis had already anticipated what d'Artagnan needed and handed Athos a bowl of cold water. Athos nodded his thanks and gently lifted d'Artagnan's head so that he could drink. "Not too much. The last thing we want is for him to throw up with a stomach wound." Aramis instructed. Athos pulled the bowl away when the boy had enough, gently lowering his head back on the table.

D'Artagnan closed his eyes. "Am I dying?"

"Don't be stupid. It's just a scratch." Porthos stood in his line of sight before he spoke. D'Artagnan couldn't help but smirk at the grin on the big man's face.

"Stomach wound…Death is inevitable."

Aramis winced at those words. "I may have exaggerated that for the purpose of getting information."

"I'm tired."

"Then go to sleep." Athos told him gently. D'Artagnan turned his head to the man. He frowned at seeing the concern on Athos's face. It didn't make sense. This man doesn't care about him. It must be the exhaustion and blood loss causing him to see things that weren't there. He closed his eyes as sleep took him.

"Sit him up so I can wrap the wound. Then we can get him comfortable." Aramis ordered. Once again, Athos and Porthos d'Artagnan into a sitting position so that Aramis could bandage the wound. "Let's get him on the bed." A large bed sat in the corner of the house. It was big enough for Christophe's entire family. Porthos carried d'Artagnan to the bed while Aramis went outside to clean up. Athos covered the boy with the blanket Christophe provided them with. The musketeers will not be getting any sleep tonight.

* * *

Porthos had placed d'Artagnan in the centre of the big bed so that there was room for Athos to sit beside the boy. He knew Athos wanted to be close by after what he saw today. Athos cared for the Gascon. Somehow, the Gascon had wormed him way into Athos's heart without even knowing it. What he didn't get was why Athos tried his hardest, for the past week, to push d'Artagnan away when he clearly cared about him. "You know, he thinks you hate him."

"Yes, that was the plan."

"What plan?" Aramis asked as he gestured for Athos to get up so he could check on d'Artagnan. Porthos pulled over one of the dining table chairs to sit on, waiting for Athos to explain himself. Aramis placed the back of his hand against d'Artagnan's cheeks. No fever. That's a good sign. He sat down on the bed and waited for Athos to talk as well.

"He reminds me of my brother." Athos stoked the fire place and threw in another fire wood. "He doesn't look like him, but he has a look in his eyes, like he's up to no good." Athos smiled, "Thomas always had that look in his eyes." Both Porthos and Aramis knew of Athos's dead brother but he didn't know about the circumstance surrounding his death. "I've been trying to drive d'Artagnan away because this is a dangerous job and it will probably get him killed."

"And you don't want to lose Thomas again." Aramis surmised. Athos nodded. "The problem with that logic is d'Artagnan is not Thomas. D'Artagnan is a skilled swordsman. Porthos and I have seen him in a duel. You have seen him take down a man who had a gun against his head. D'Artagnan was born to be a Musketeer."

"Aramis is right. D'Artagnan can take care of himself." Porthos told him, "And you cannot take that away from him. It's his life. It's his choice."

Athos sighed, "I know. He's a musketeer. He proved it today."

"Good." Aramis got up from the bed. "Tell him that when he wakes up. I'm going to get some sleep. Wake me up when he does."

"Wait!" Aramis and Porthos both looked at Athos. "What did you mean when you said this is his last mission?"

Porthos turned to Aramis, curious as well. He vaguely remembered Aramis saying it too.

Aramis sighed, scratching his brow, unsure if he should be telling Athos about their conversation. In the end he decided that Athos should know how he's been making the boy feel. "He doesn't believe he's meant to be a musketeer. He does not feel welcomed and he no longer wants to make you uncomfortable."

Athos groaned as he buried his face in his hands. It seemed his plan had worked too well and if it was truly to succeed, d'Artagnan will have walked away failing to fulfil his dream of being a musketeer. He will have walked away because Athos did not like the feelings the boy brought out of him. "Congratulations, Athos." Athos's head shot up at the words. It was Porthos. "Don't look so surprised. You've treated the boy as if he were your worst enemy. Did you really think he would stick around and take it?" Porthos was willing to forgive him earlier after hearing about Athos and his reasons for doing what he did but now that he's heard how badly he's hurt d'Artagnan, he wasn't as forgiving any more.

"I'm sorry." Athos told them. It was all he could say after his actions over the past week.

Porthos stood to take first watch over the prisoners. "We're not the ones you owe an apology to."

Aramis watched the man leave. It's rare to see Porthos angry at anyone. It seems this boy has brought out his protective side. "You know what you need to do." Aramis said before sitting down in an armchair and closing his eyes. Athos did know what he needed to do.

* * *

**In the middle of the night...**

D'Artagnan woke up groggy and in pain. He frowned when he noticed someone sitting up beside him. It was Athos. The man was in his way, not allowing him to see where he was. Slowly, he pushed the blanket off and tried to push himself up when pain flared from his abdomen.

* * *

Athos and Aramis were shocked awake by a scream of pain. Porthos came running in with his sword and pistol drawn. "D'Artagnan!" Aramis pushed Athos aside and quickly checked the bandage. There was no blood, much to his relief. D'Artagnan had his eyes shut tight, trying to shut out the pain. "D'Artagnan, look at me. You need to breathe." He tapped d'Artagnan's face. "Come on. Look at me." D'Artagnan slowly opened his eyes to find a very worried Aramis looking back at him. "There we go." The Gascon groaned, trying to roll over and curl up to protect himself from the pain, but Aramis wouldn't let him. "That's not good for you."

D'Artagnan let out an involuntary sob. "Hu…rts…"

"I know. Control your breathing and I'll go find you something for the pain." Aramis gave his shoulder a squeeze before he got up. "Keep him calm." He ordered Athos, then grabbed Porthos on his way out. "We need a rum."

Athos took Aramis's place next to d'Artagnan. He brushed aside the hair that was sticking to the boy's forehead due to the sweating cause by the pain. "You'll be alright." D'Artagnan opened his eyes at hearing the voice. Athos smiled at him.

"Ath..s?"

"Yes, it's me."

"Wh..y?" d'Artagnan couldn't understand what was going on.

"Why what? Why am I here?" D'Artagnan nodded. It hurt Athos that the boy had to even ask, but that was his own fault. For a week he had led the boy to believe he meant nothing to him, when the truth could not have been further. "I'm here because I care about you." D'Artagnan's brain was too foggy to process any kind of information so he got straight to the point. "I'm worried about you."

"Why?" d'Artagnan still didn't understand. "You don't…"

"Yes, I do." Athos didn't let him finish. "I do care about you and I'm sorry for making you think otherwise."

"Hurts…" d'Artagnan's breathing started getting laboured as the pain intensified.

"Hey, hey, hey…" He picked up d'Artagnan's hand and placed his own in it. "Squeeze my hand." Athos winced at the pain there, but it was working. D'Artagnan was redirecting the pain. Slowly, d'Artagnan's breathing eased a little. "That's good."

Aramis returned with a bottle of wine. He poured a cup and handed it to Athos. "Get him to drink it."

Athos pulled his hand from d'Artagnan's, causing the boy to whimper at the loss of his anchor. "It's okay. I've got something for the pain." He lifted d'Artagnan's head and pressed the cup to the Gascon's lips. "Slowly." Athos managed to get d'Artagnan to drink the entire cup. He lowered d'Artagnan back down and smiled as the wine sent the exhausted man into a deep sleep. He sighed in relief and turned to Aramis. "Thank goodness."

Aramis nodded in agreement. Porthos came running in then with two bottles of rum. He looked at the boy sleeping comfortably in the bed. "He doesn't need it?"

Athos held out his hand. "No, but I do." He grabbed the bottle and uncorked it with his teeth, taking a good long swig. Aramis laughed and took the other bottle. It was a stressful night and all of them needed something to relax them.

* * *

**The next morning…**

Aramis and Athos was getting d'Artagnan into a carriage Porthos had borrowed when he went into the city of Versailles. He went there to drop the prisoners off at their cells, assuring them that the Musketeers will return to collect them. He decided a carriage could come in handy when he passed a merchant on the way out of the city. There was no way d'Artagnan could return on horseback, but it could be a week before d'Artagnan would be well enough to travel. It wasn't right to take Christophe's home for that long. Aramis had placed a quilt in the carriage before they help d'Artagnan into it. Athos got up on the carriage first, then reached down and pulled him up under the arms. Aramis pushed him up at the same time so that no pulling was caused to the wound. Athos laid the boy down then jumped out to allow Aramis room to check the wound before they started their journey back to Paris. Christophe handed Porthos a bag of bread for the road. "We will be forever grateful to you."

"We were just doing our job." Porthos shook his hand and threw the bag of bread up to Athos who would be driving the carriage.

* * *

It was a tedious and long trip back to Paris. They had to travel slowly so that they didn't cause any additional pain to d'Artagnan. Athos winced every time the hit a rock or pot hole. They also stopped regularly for Aramis to check the wound and give d'Artagnan some water.

The arrival at the garrison could not come any sooner for the exhausted men. Treville came out of his office when he heard the arrival of horses. He stood at the landing and called down. "What happened?"

"D'Artagnan's injured." Athos called back up. "The raiders are at Versailles's prison. Send some men to collect them." Aramis gave instructions to gently get d'Artagnan out of the carriage. "Get him to my room." Aramis ordered. Four musketeers, including Porthos carried to wounded man up the stairs. Aramis followed behind them.

"How is he, Aramis?" The Captain asked.

Aramis paused, "He's doing well, considering the wound. He'll recover." The captain nodded, letting him go to take care of the young Gascon.

Athos stopped at the top of the steps. "I was wrong, Captain." He said to the man. Treville raised his eyebrows at him. "This is the only place for him in Paris." Treville nodded. Whatever happened out there, it happened for the better. "I just need to convince him of that."

"He already knows. He wants to be a musketeer."

"I know, but he thinks I hate him."

Treville shook his head, "I wonder what gave him that idea!" The sarcasm was un-missable.

* * *

**Aramis's room…**

Aramis was finishing with checking d'Artagnan's injury. It was a little red around the stitches but nothing to worry over. He did apply a salve over it to protect the wound from any infection. He was sure, now that they were home, that d'Artagnan would make a full recovery.

It was a day later when d'Artagnan was fully awake and aware of his surroundings. Porthos helped him to sit up in the bed so that he could drink the broth the kitchen had prepared for him. The musketeers were taking turns in staying with d'Artagnan, ensuring the stubborn man didn't try to get out of bed. It turns out d'Artagnan wasn't a very good patient. He almost tore out his stitches, trying to get out of the bed the night before, but the pain sent him into oblivion, stopping him from getting too far.

As d'Artagnan regained his strength, the awkwardness between him and Athos, grew. D'Artagnan was fine with Porthos and Aramis but it was always tense when it was Athos's turn to watch him. "You know, you don't have to watch me. I'm sure you have better things to do."

Athos watched him as he fiddled with the blanket, refusing to look Athos in the eyes. "Actually, I don't. Treville doesn't have any assignments for me today."

"Oh…"

Athos sighed. It was time to tell d'Artagnan the truth. "d'Artagnan…"

"I tried to leave, but Aramis won't let me out of this bed." D'Artagnan blurted out, surprising him. "I'll leave as soon as he says I'm fit enough to."

Athos closed his eyes at the damage he's done. He pushed the boy into thinking he didn't belong. When D'Artagnan came into the garrison, calling him out, he felt the fire in him. This Gascon farm boy had a fire in him for justice and Athos tried in hardest to put it out. Now he was paying for it. "You don't have to leave."

"But you want me to." D'Artagnan said defeated.

"NO!" D'Artagnan jumped at the volume, grimacing at the pain it cause. Athos sat forward. "I'm sorry. Are you okay? I can call Aramis."

D'Artagnan shook his head. "No. I'm fine." It was driving Athos crazy that he wouldn't look at him. Athos stood and sat on the edge of the bed.

"I had a brother." He started, softly. "Thomas. You remind me of him."

Finally, d'Artagnan looked up at him. "Had?"

"He died before I became a musketeer."

"What happened?"

Athos smiled, "That's a story for another time." He placed a hand on d'Artagnan's shoulder, "I just need you know that I pushed you away because I was scared of losing Thomas again."

"I'm not Thomas." D'Artagnan told him.

Athos laughed, "I know, I can see that. And it's not just your skills with a sword or a pistol. You gave me your word that you would watch our backs and you did." He looked into d'Artagnan eyes when he said the next part. "You're an honourable man, d'Artagnan and I will gladly trust you with my life." D'Artagnan's eyes widened at that. "You will be a Musketeer one day."

D'Artagnan smiled. "Thank you."

Athos patted him the leg. "Get better. Rest."

"Yes, sir." Athos waited until d'Artagnan fell asleep before he left room.

* * *

One week later, d'Artagnan was walking up and down the garrison. The stitches were out and Aramis had allowed him a little time outside the room. Aramis kept a close eye on the boy, ensuring he doesn't over tax himself. D'Artagnan felt himself tiring already after only five laps. He sat himself down, opposite Aramis and Porthos, who gave him some bread and water. "Eat up. Your skin and bones."

"Thanks." D''Artagnan looked around. "Where's Athos?"

"Treville wanted to talk to him about something." Aramis told him, "the last I heard, they were in a pretty heated argument."

That got Porthos and d'Artagnan's interest. "What about?" They both asked. Aramis laughed. D'Artagnan was fitting in just fine with them.

"I don't know." Treville's door swung open then and Athos came out, looking unimpressed. Aramis looked up, "But I think we're about to find out."

Treville and Athos walked down the stairs towards them. "d'Artagnan, I have a mission for you." Treville said as Athos took a seat next to him.

Aramis jumped at that. "He's in no condition to be on a mission."

"He's right, Captain." Porthos agreed.

"It's not right away. Next week Vadim will be transferred here. Before he was captured, he stole enough gun powder to start a small war. We need to know where he's hiding it." Treville looked at d'Artagnan, "I need someone to gain his trust and find out where it is."

"Me?" D'Artagnan looked surprised. "You trust me with this?"

"I told you that I need a fresh face for certain missions. Vadim will never trust a King's Musketeer. You won't be recognised."

Aramis could see that d'Artagnan would accept the mission. "Captain, I can't be sure d'Artagnan will be well enough in a week."

"I'll be fine." D'Artagnan told them. "I can do it."

Athos placed a hand on d'Artagnan's forearm. "You have nothing to prove."

"We're talking about the safety of France. This has to be done." D'Artagnan told him, "It has nothing to do with proving myself." He looked over at Porthos and Aramis. "I can do this."

"There is no haste. We still have a week. Aramis will assess your condition in another three days and we can decide then." Treville left them to it.

Athos stood. "Come. You need to rest if you are to take on a mission next week."

D'Artagnan looked up at him, hopefully, "You're letting me go."

Athos shook his head and smirked, "I have a feeling you'd do it whether we agree to it or not."

As they walked their newest member to the room to rest, they were all thinking to same thing. Life in Paris just got more interesting!

**The END!**


End file.
